Inertia
by Misty Reeyus
Summary: Weeks after Michael's death, Zero struggles to keep up with her own intoner urges. Then comes Accord. [Zero/Accord, smut]


Michael was a dumbass to the very end, and Zero hopes he's happy with himself wherever he is, because he is definitely _not_ in that big baby dragon who's sleeping outside in the shit pit. She hopes he's happy with himself knowing that he died the most idiotic of deaths, doing something as stupid as sacrificing himself to protect her. She hopes he's happy with himself while she holes up in this shitty cabin and lies on this shitty bed and wakes up every shitty morning with his name on her lips and broken sobs in her throat and a persistent phantom ache where her left arm used to be.

This morning after that whole shitty routine, Zero groans and rolls over, burying her face in the pillow to shield it from the sunlight—and to abate the traitorous hot sting behind her eyes. Goddammit, it's been _weeks_ since Cathedral City, and not once have the memories ceased to haunt her in her dreams. They still play out so clearly: Michael's form protectively shielding hers, Michael's body going limp and lifeless beneath her hand, Michael's final wish in her ears nearly drowned out by the sound of her own desperate screams…

Fuck. Zero really needs to just _stop thinking_.

Swift and furious, Zero shifts onto her right side and slides her hand beneath the flap of her dress, fingering her clit through the cotton of her panties. No point trying to remove them; it'd be too much time and effort, especially with only one arm. She can't have perfection anyway, so she'll have to settle for this as a distraction. Just a quick spell to let herself _forget_ for a while, and then she can snap out of it and get right back to her plan of destroying this accursed goddamn piece of shit flower—

"Surely you realize this branch isn't going well for you."

Zero whirls to attention at the unexpected voice, then scowls when she spots the familiar intruder leaning casually against a pillar.

Figures. Accord always did have terrible timing.

"Shut up," Zero hisses. "I told you to stay out of my way."

Accord quirks a brow. "Considering what happened, I think you can understand why I felt the need to check in."

Zero grits her teeth. Yeah, she failed this time. She's already painfully aware, and the last thing she needs is someone else shoving it in her face. "This isn't over yet. I'm still here, I'm still gonna kill my sisters, and I still have a dragon to help me finish the job."

"Zero, he's a baby."

"And he'll grow up quick. I told you, I'm not here to fail." Zero narrows her eyes. "Now get the hell out before I kill you."

It's a weak threat—Zero's sword rests on her bedside table, but she doesn't even try to reach for it. Her entire sense of balance has been _off_ ever since losing her arm, and if Zero tried to seriously fight now, she'd only make a fool of herself. But Accord simply sighs, melodramatically long-suffering, which Zero takes to mean she's setting the matter aside for now.

Accord doesn't leave, though, doesn't even say anything. She just stands there and wordlessly stares, and when Zero follows her gaze, she realizes the object of interest is her own hand that's gone still between her legs. Zero pointedly moves it again, presses down hard and even thrusts her hips up into the touch for good measure.

If Accord honestly expects her to act ashamed, she's got another thing coming.

"…Do you need some help there?" Accord finally asks, and Zero can't tell if she's mocking or not.

Just in case she is, Zero growls. "I can get off just fine by myself."

"Well, sure." Accord takes some steps closer until she's standing at the edge of the bed, and as Zero meets her eyes, she realizes that's it's not so much mockery as it is curiosity. "But wouldn't you prefer if you didn't have to?"

Fuck her, Accord's right. Zero has been forced to take care of her own urges for weeks now, and it's wearing her thinner than papyrus. Intoners need sex like humans need air, and masturbation can only take you so far before you're starved to have someone, _anyone_ , as a partner.

Michael used to be that partner when Zero needed it, but Michael isn't Michael anymore. And no matter how desperate she may be, Zero is not about to ask that of a literal newborn.

She _is_ desperate, though. Zero can admit that, and it's not like she has any other choices for partners. Trying to seduce any of Five's loyal soldiers patrolling the area would be more trouble than it's worth, and anyway, humans are never up to snuff in bed. Accord, whatever the fuck she is, is definitely _not_ human—and while Zero can't imagine why Accord is even offering, she's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You really think you can do better?" Zero removes her own hand from between her thighs, parting them invitingly. "Go right ahead."

Accord flashes a grin, and before Zero can even register her movement, she's already on the bed, snatching up each of Zero's ankles. Zero accommodates, lying as flat on her back as this lumpy mattress will let her as Accord tugs her legs further apart and slinks up between them. Hands glide to either side of Zero's hips, fiddling with the ties of her underwear, until they're loose enough for Accord to set Zero free.

Gloved fingers meet bare flesh, black leather sliding smooth over the crooks of sensitive inner thighs, and Zero allows herself a shuddering breath of anticipation. Already she's hot with want, eager and throbbing, wound up so damn _tight_ from weeks worth of pent up frustration—but Accord merely continues tracing around, exploring rather than getting to the point.

Zero groans in displeasure. "I didn't spread my legs just for you to fucking _tease_."

Accord's eyes seem to glint almost playfully behind her glasses. "Oooh, scary." Shit, _there's_ the mocking. There's the smug tone and obnoxious smirk.

Zero glares and bucks her hips pointedly, impatiently. If this bitch doesn't get to business by the count of three, severed arm be damned, Zero is going to snap that pretty little neck with a single hand—

Curled knuckles press down on her aching clit and the thought instantly dissipates, Zero's mind going blank as she encounters the sweet solace of friction and heat. Accord pinches the nub between thumb and forefinger and Zero lets loose a gasp; she starts rubbing roughly, insistently, and Zero throws her head back from the force of her own moans. Above the belt, Zero busies herself by shooting her hand towards her left breast, groping the hardened teat through her dress and bra to augment her own arousal—and she recalls again why having a partner is so damn _better_ than just touching yourself.

Without warning, and while still fondling her clit, Accord swiftly shoves three fingers of her other hand inside Zero and spreads them wide. Zero screeches and clenches a fist into the fabric at her chest, arching with pleasure as Accord slides out and plunges back in with harsh precision. Her rhythm is steady but merciless, like pounding drums; her every thrust is so hard and so fast it _burns_ Zero to the very core—and Zero relishes every goddamn second.

It's perfect. No words, no foreplay, no stupid fucking emotions. Just pure, relentless sensation that sets her skin aflame and clouds her head with thrill and makes her feel something, anything close to full, _complete_.

Zero's orgasm comes like a rolling wave, a surge that she rides out amidst her own whimpers of _fuck fuck fuck_ before it tempers out into a buzzing afterglow. She feels relief, release, flighty yet freeing—but still, it's not enough, it's not _satisfaction_ , and as the haze clears and she notices Accord beginning to pull away, Zero instantly snarls, clamping the hand between both her thighs to keep it there.

"Don't you fucking _dare_ stop!"

Accord blinks, bewildered, but Zero viciously captures her gaze with her own and doesn't let it go. Understanding dawns, and Accord demonstrates her acquiescence by reaching her thumb back up to Zero's clit and pressing circle after wonderful circle.

Zero shuts her eyes, her insides clenching in anticipation of those skilled fingers—so she nearly jolts out of her skin when she gets mouth instead. Lips kiss along her seam as a foreign tongue traces dizzying strokes; Zero coils up tight and then _convulses_ when mouth and hand swap, fingers pumping deep inside while teeth scrape over her hood. Accord _bites down_ on her clit and that's the last straw, Zero digging her heels into the mattress as her vision shoots to white. Screams tear from her throat as she finally, _finally_ peaks, reaches the sheer blooming ecstasy that has eluded her for so so fucking _long_ …

Zero descends to earth with her blood singing, her whole body boneless and breathless and satiated in a way it hasn't been in ages. She can't remember the last time she was able to come twice. Or, well, she probably could if she tried, but the whole point of this was to _stop_ thinking about Michael, and like hell she's ruining that now.

Zero catches enough breath to prop herself up onto her elbow, her eyes flicking over to Accord. Her chin shines slick and sticky in the sunlight and Accord rubs it clean with the back of her hand before meeting Zero's gaze, gray eyes blurred behind fogged glasses. Neither says anything, expressions unreadable and stares unbroken—until suddenly, Accord darts in, lips landing on Zero's own.

The kiss is clumsy, brief, an off-angle peck to the corner of her mouth that Accord instantly pulls away from before Zero even has the chance to realize it's happening. Once it does register in her mind, Zero blinks and furrows her brow. What the fuck was that for? Something so chaste, so after-the-fact, so pointless?

Zero doesn't have the chance to ask. Accord voices her own question first—"What do you plan to do now?"—as she hops off the bed and wipes her soaked gloves on her skirt.

The kiss is of little consequence in the end, so Zero drops the matter. "What do you think? I'm gonna raise myself a dragon. I'm gonna regain my strength. And then I'm gonna kill all my sisters and end this, just like I said I would."

Michael may be gone, but with or without him, Zero still has a goddamn job to do.

Accord frowns, but she snatches up her suitcase from the floor and turns on her heel, indicating she's done here. "Fine. Do as you wish for now."

Zero quirks a brow. "You finally gonna quit bugging me about the future?"

"Don't be silly, of course not."

Zero rolls her eyes. It was worth a shot, but Accord seems determined to never get out of her hair. "Just quit fucking barging in here whenever you want. Your timing is shit."

"I'll keep that in mind." Accord sounds almost amused as she pops open her suitcase, procuring something long and black before clicking it shut again. "Catch," she calls, and singlehandedly tosses the object over her shoulder without looking back.

Zero startles as whatever it is lands heavy in her lap, her nose scrunching in bewilderment as she examines it. The metal is cool and smooth beneath her hand, and she can feel something _moving_ inside the frame, and at one end, the shape has been split into what looks like the joints of five fingers. Some sort of…mechanical arm?

"The fuck is this—?" But when Zero glances back up, Accord is already gone.

"…Cryptic bitch," Zero mutters to herself. "How do I know this thing's not defunct?"

(Even so, she shoves the prosthetic into her arm socket anyway.)

* * *

-yes, i do absolutely 10000% believe that zero and michael were fucking. don't ask me the mechanics of _how_ they were fucking because idefk, but it absolutely happened. you are never taking this away from me.

-as far as i'm aware, the canon gives no indication as to where or how zero got that prosthetic arm, so i'm just gonna assume accord gave it to her because 1) accord is really fucking gay for zero and 2) i mean, where the hell else would zero have gotten something as badass as that


End file.
